In the Morning
by TribalGirl
Summary: And outside, the storm raged over two empty graves lying side by side.  Oneshot.  My attempt to put two rather cliched OC's into a non-cliched context.


**I noticed how many stories there are involving these characters (or, you know, these character concepts), and I wanted to write my own. So I started planning this big adventure thing, but the only thing that was really definite in my mind was the ending. So finally I just thought, "Forget it, I'm going to write the ending all by itself and post it as a oneshot." So that's what I'm doing.**

**Also, pretty much everything I've written recently has been really cliched, so I'm trying to redeem myself by putting two slightly cliched OC's into a scenario that I'm pretty sure hasn't been done before, at least not in this fandom.**

**Now, there's good news and bad news. The bad news is: it doesn't have quite the same power, the same effect, as it did in my head. The good news is: in my head, it was a lot more depressing. **

**Okay, now please read it.**

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><p>"They're dead."<p>

The girl's hands, clad in threadbare fingerless gloves, clutched the mug like it was the only thing in the world.

"They're really dead," she repeated. She lifted the mug to take a sip, but her hand shook, and drops of hot tea began sliding down the surface.

The woman across the table noticed with an exasperated sigh. "Please don't drip on the table; it's teak, specially commissioned."

The girl scooped up the tea with a finger and wiped it on her worn jeans. Her twin brother, seated next to her, stared at the woman. "You don't seem to care." His tone was blunt, but his voice cracked at the end.

"Of course I care. He was my brother."

Silence then, while something that was not quite snow and not quite rain pounded the windows. In the cemetery down the hill, the wind moaning through the trees sounded like the dead crying along with them.

"It was twelve years ago," she added. "You have to forget and move on."

"Did you care about our mother?" asked the girl.

The woman looked away, a cluster of diamonds at her neck catching the light. "Perhaps. I wasn't sure. All that animosity doesn't just go away. I made an effort, but..." She shrugged. "I could never really think of her as my sister-in-law."

The girl twisted a strand of damp black hair around her finger and said nothing. The boy took a gulp of hot tea and burned his tongue.

The woman got up, wanting to get away from the looks on their faces, and went to the window. "Their graves are down there, if you care to look, but - "

"We saw."

The woman's eyes widened and she turned towards the boy. "Then why did you ask me?"

"We wanted to make sure."

"I guess we didn't want to believe it," his sister added in a hollow voice.

"Anyone else in our family wouldn't have trusted either the graves or my word."

"What do you mean?" The boy's fingers went to the dingy scarf around his neck.

"Let's just say this family has... problems."

"Everyone keeps mentioning this family," replied the boy, "but what is it about this family, exactly? And just how big is it?"

"What were you told?"

"We know that a bunch of famous people were part of it - " began the girl, " - and that there was something - a long time ago - a race, or something - "

"Not so long ago," murmured the woman. "It happened in my lifetime. I was about your age, and I was a part of it."

The boy looked up, golden-brown eyes locking with hers. "Part of it?"

"Yes, I was." The woman's eyes were far away if she gazed out at the graveyard. "I was young and naive, and I was a part of it. But it didn't start then. I suppose you could say that's when we were introduced to it, and things... heated up. A lot."

"Was it dangerous?" The girl's green eyes traveled to a map of the world with pins stuck in it, connected with string to form a long line. From Boston to Paris, Paris to Venice, Venice to Japan and then the short way to Korea...

"Dangerous? Of course it was. I must confess that my brother and I were the source of most of the danger; but there were other factors that made it hard for us as well. Everybody was at each other's throats, ready to stop at nothing to win."

"And our mother was part of it?" asked the boy.

"Of course. They fell in love near the beginning."

There was a surprised silence. The girl began to speak. "But didn't you just say - "

"Of course," snapped the woman. "That's why I disapproved. It was so illogical, and so inconvenient. Although, in a strange way, we meant for some of it to happen... but not like that."

The boy ran a hand through his auburn hair, which evidently had not seen a pair of scissors in a while.

"It started here, you know." The woman knew she was only speaking to fill the silence. "Right here, on this very ground. This used to be Grace Cahill's mansion, before it burned down."

"Burned down."

"Yes, on the very day we became part of it. I acquired the property and rebuilt it for my own uses - with several modifications to the design, of course. I don't know why. A fit of sentimentality, perhaps. But it isn't so bad here." There was another long silence, and then - "The graves are empty."

The girl put down her mug with a loud _clink_. "What?"

"Were they cremated?" asked the boy.

"Funny you should ask. Your mother specifically requested to be buried here, and not cremated."

"Why?"

"Fire." The woman's lips twisted in a wry smile. "Too many bad memories. Also, this is the place where everything started; I suppose she wanted it to end here as well. No... they went on a mission against some... enemies of ours, that you don't need to concern yourself with. And they were missing in action. Presumed dead."

"But then - they could still be alive!" The boy's face lit up.

"After twelve years? They would have contacted us."

"If they didn't want to be found - "

"And why wouldn't they? They had children. They had family. And anyway, we would have found them. You have no idea how powerful the Cahill family is; we have spies all around the globe. Your parents are dead."

The boy slumped in his chair. He'd been just grasping at straws and he knew it.

"I thought they didn't want us." The girl's voice had a bruised quality to it. "They gave us up for adoption, didn't they?"

"No." A pause. "I did."

Two searing gazes trapped hers. "What?"

The woman looked down, unable to meet their eyes. "They left you in my care. I considered it a burden. I gave you up for adoption. I regretted it."

"You could have at least left a note with us - something - " The girl was getting agitated. "We had no idea about all this Cahill stuff!"

"I know. It was a mistake."

The girl put down her empty mug and gazed out the window. The rain and the snow pounded down from a darkening sky and the wind was one long moan of anguish. Somewhere, in that storm, were the empty graves of the parents she'd never known.

"You could spend the night, if you want."

The girl turned around sharply. The boy looked up. "What?"

"You could stay here. Spend the night. Stay longer, if you want, in fact. I have several spare bedrooms, and you two look like you could use a rest." She got up and moved towards the stairs. The girl and the boy followed her. "By the way - " She turned and faced them. "Your mother's brother is coming in a few days' time, although he'd probably rather you call him 'cousin' than 'uncle' - I heard him mentioning something like that earlier. He can tell you everything. He's much better with children than I am."

"What should we call you?" asked the boy. "Aunt?"

The woman shuddered. "Not Aunt. It makes me sound so old." More than that, she was afraid to tie herself to these children.

"Then what?"

"Cousin, perhaps."

The boy nodded. It was a start.

Suddenly, the girl rushed forward and hugged the woman around the waist. The boy joined in. After some hesitation, the woman put her arms around them both. "There, there," she murmured. "Everything will look better in the morning." She was only repeating what she had heard other parents say. She had no experience with mothering.

Perhaps now was the time to begin.

.-:-. . .-:-. . .-:-.

The girl climbed into bed, and pulled the soft, downy sheets about her. Her limbs felt like lead. She hadn't realized up until now how tired she was.

Across the room, the boy was sinking into a similar bed. "I can't believe it. They're dead. We've come all this way - "

"I know."

"Where next?"

She was quiet for a moment. "Maybe our aunt - I mean cousin - can let us live with her."

The boy snorted. "Not likely. She's no mom. I mean, she actually said everything will look better in the morning. That's never true."

"It usually is. You just don't notice."

"Well, if you say so..."

Silence stretched between them.

"Good night."

"Good night."

Their eyes drifted shut and they were asleep within minutes, while downstairs a proud, lonely woman mourned her brother anew. And outside, the storm raged over two empty graves lying side by side.

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><p><strong>First of all: I apologize. The only canon character is rather badly OOC. My fault. I just wanted to be able to have this work.<strong>

**Anyway... PLEASE REVIEW! I had the idea for this last night and it kept me from sleeping for a good while because I was so busy planning it. I want to know if my efforts have paid off!**

**Oh hey... I just had an idea. This was originally supposed to be the ending of an adventure fic. If anyone wants to write the adventure fic itself, they can. Only they have to have a disclaimer saying it was my idea in the first place. Also, please tell me what it's called, because I want to read it.**


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